Page 9 of Mated in Flames

Luciana

Caring for the horses

· Regular exercises are needed; if you don’t ride them, make sure they have a large enough area to roam in

· On clear days, allow them to roam in the field

· Make sure there is a good, clean supply of hay in their stalls at all times

· Keep their water clean and filled

· Speak to Kain Johns about trimming hooves every six weeks

· I’ve written the name of our horse’s dentist and doctor; check with them regarding their teeth, vaccinations and general health care as soon as you can

· Check on them daily

*For Rainbow, she must stretch her wings at least once a day in the yard. If she refuses to do so herself, you will have to help her

I sigh and close the journal, rubbing my temples. So much information. I never even knew horse hooves needed to be trimmed, and I have no idea how to tell if a horse’s teeth are normal or not.

And that’s not even beginning to talk about the damn Pegasus that had almost given me a heart attack the first time I met all the horses. My father hadn’t written anything about a special dentist or doctor for Rainbow, so maybe the numbers I’ve got already knew about them.

I slump back in my chair and look unseeingly up at the ceiling. Just how many people were actually aware of this entire thing? As far as I knew, a Pegasus and a Peryton were mythical creatures, and I had continued on in that assumption until I found them in the barn. And there’s many, many other creatures here that really shouldn’t exist.

How had my father found these creatures? His journal doesn’t once say anything about how any of this had happened. It’s just lists of the general care for each animal and, as grateful as I am for the advice, especially since I’ve never cared for an animal before, it doesn’t help the curiosity that has begun to burn within me.

But, unless the journal can give me the answers, I’m probably never going to find out. My father is gone, and I never knew him. It feels a little awkward to think of that so coldly, but I don’t have that many memories of him. Most of my life was spent in Brazil, and my mother never liked to speak of him before her death. After I’d grown up, we had started to connect again, but it wasn’t a very personal relationship. I feel the heavy sense of loss for someone who brought me into the world but, otherwise, I didn’t know him.

Being here, on this farm, and reading his meticulous notes told me that more than ever. He’s led an entire life where he found and protected creatures that the rest of the world didn’t even know about. Is this why he hid himself away? He chose these creatures over me and my mom?

I look down at the journal. The other strange thing about my father is the very existence of this journal. He had written this to me. The details are clear and concise, and it’s easy to understand and follow his directions. But I have never been here. I knew nothing of his animals. So why did he write down the instructions, almost as though he knew I would be coming here upon his death?

I shake that thought out of my mind. I’m just being stupid, now. My father is gone and now I have his farm, there’s nothing else to it.

I stand and make my way to the window. Shadows are cast across the fields as the sun begins to go down. I don’t want to admit it, but, in the last few days, I’ve discovered that I actually like it here in Mundaring. I had honestly thought I’d miss the action working at Doctors Without Borders, that I would go stir crazy on this massive property by myself, left alone to deal with all my thoughts on David… but I haven’t.

I’ve been too busy to brood about any of it. I get up early in the morning and spend my days fumbling around the farm, hoping that I’m not messing anything up. The animals know nothing of my struggles, but they’re all calm and gentle and friendly. Talking to them is almost like going to therapy; they simply listen without judgement.

My mind, for the first time in months, is actually calm. And it is with that calm that a few realisations have finally stolen over me. David is never going to be found, at least not alive. He’s been gone for far too long. My father is gone, too, and a tiny part of me regrets that I didn’t try harder to reconnect with him. This property and everything on it is now mine to protect.

A wave of tiredness sweeps over me. Between the early hour and all the emotional revelations of the last few days, I’m more than ready just to sleep for a week.

I glance at the time. I need to go and feed the animals and help them settle down for the night. A small smile crosses my face. It feels nice to be needed for once.

As I leave the front door, I can see lights on across the road. I roll my eyes. I haven’t seen Warwick since he tried to help me milk a cow the other day. I’m a little miffed about it; if he hadn’t known how to, he should have just damn well told me instead of pretending to know more than he actually did.

But perhaps that was my fault. After all, it had taken a moment for my thoughts to catch up when I opened the door, stunned at the sudden sight of a tall, broad shouldered man standing on the other side, his auburn hair shining in the light and his pale blue eyes so unusual that I couldn’t help but stare. With his sleeves rolled to his elbow and a welcoming smile on his face, he was incredibly attractive.

Too bad he was also a fool, I think with a snort, heading around the back.

A lot of the animals have made their own way inside. I hustle a few of the sheep into moving quicker and turn the back light on.

A shadow catches the corner of my eye.

I turn sharply. Was that one of the animals? I hadn’t gotten a good look at the shape, unfortunately. Frowning slightly, I make my way toward the side of the house. The figure had been tall, and it wouldn’t surprise me to find that it was the young dryad that lived in the greenhouse.

I pause and roll my eyes at myself. It was strange how all of this had suddenly become so normal.

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